


The Parting Glass

by ancientcitylullaby



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: AND GAY, Angst, M/M, Murder, Regret, The Scottish Play, This Is Sad, but mostly sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 13:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientcitylullaby/pseuds/ancientcitylullaby
Summary: What are you to do, when it’s too late to bring him back? Set in Act 3, before and during the banquet scene. Macbeth regrets murdering his lover (Banquo)





	The Parting Glass

Please forgive me for what I’ve done.

Sleeplessness plagues the very mind. I’ve learned that clear as day, even as the blackness of night was suspended above me. I watched with bated breath upon the terraces of my castle, biting my lip.

Do I regret what I’ve done? 

At this very moment perhaps, three dark figures would descend upon my dearest friend, Banquo. He would be completely unsuspecting of the plot, and wouldn’t stand a chance against the three of them at once. He might already be dead by now. And his young son, Fleance, was with him. He was only what, eight or nine years old? He would surely be dead too.

My mind runs back to a simpler time, before all this prophecy business. The three of us, Banquo, Fleance, and I had ventured out into the countryside. I remember the child’s bright eyes as he laughed, and plucked flowers from the grass, proudly presenting them to me and his father. We played a game of tag, chasing him through the fields, and though he was small and his legs were short, we always, always let him catch us. I felt a twinge of pain, wondering what life would have been like if things had been different, if Fleance had been mine and Banquo’s son. That day, it almost seemed as though he was.  
I remember the way Banquo smiled at me back then. I still remember his eyes; blue eyes that pierced through my very soul. Though I didn’t want to admit it, his eyes made me weak. 

Banquo. I dared not tell my wife or any of the other lords, but I did love him, more than any woman. Countless times when Banquo was staying in my castle, or I in his, I would sneak into his room late at night. It was far different from with my wife; with no one else had I ever felt so alive. He kissed me drunk. I never held anyone else quite as close. His smile against my lips, under the cover of night, was all I could ever ask for.  
I know he loved me too, as he had often speculated on running away with me, faking our own deaths and retreating to the countryside, just Banquo, Fleance, and me. 

He could be coy, that one. “Oh, surely thy lady still wakes, we mustn’t disturb her, lest she find out.” And “My dear Beth, there is no need to rush these things.” He would say, using the affectionate nickname which he only called me in private.

I choked back tears, fearing I had made a terrible mistake. I never wanted to kill him. I never seemed to do what I truly wanted these days. I found it a struggle to even think clearly.  
I really should get some more sleep, if only I didn’t lie awake every night. I always thought I could handle the sight of blood; I had fought countless battles and not batted an eye, yet the sight of King Duncan, splayed out in a pool of red never seemed to leave my memory. 

I wished Banquo had decided to join me in my plot. He was too good of a man. I should’ve known better. I was sure he knew what I had done, and that he would never stand for it. There wasn’t anything else I could do. I wished with my entire being that I didn’t have to do it. But what else could I have done? I’m a ruined man, I’ve forever lost my place in heaven, I can’t lose my place on the throne too.  
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to lose all I was promised, if I’m found out. I can’t…

I lost something else, for sure, in losing him. But I fear I had already lost Banquo the moment I made my first kill.

I remembered how highly he thought of me. We’d fought side by side, forever loyal to Scotland and our king. Hadn’t that been enough for me?  
No, no more. It had to be this way. And anyway, it was too late. 

I remember the night we were returning home from battle, after the weird sisters had left us, Banquo had his arm around me. He kissed me on the cheek and said that he imagined I’d be a great king. He then laughed, hinting that perhaps if he was to get kings, it meant there would be a future for the two of us, and I would one day pass the kingship on to Fleance. It seemed absurd, but I hoped to god that it would come true.  
Why then had it come to this instead?

Banquo surely was in heaven. I hoped he and his son find peace on the other side.  
I could never join them, I realized. 

I wonder what he thinks of me, if he’s looking down at me now.

My god, what have I done?

I was interrupted from my thoughts by my wife, creeping up silently beside me. 

“My lord, have you been crying?” She asked me, less with concern and more with annoyance. 

I haven’t even noticed, my cheeks were soaked with tears. Oh Banquo, my dearest friend.

“It’s nothing.” I hurriedly wiped away the tears with my sleeve. 

“Well hurry on and come downstairs, the banquet’s about to start.” She chided. 

I felt sick to my stomach. There was no way I could handle attending any sort of social gathering at this moment in time. I needed to be alone, I needed to restart everything, and I needed Banquo. But he couldn’t be here; he was bleeding in a ditch somewhere, and it was my fault. 

Just bite your tongue, smile and be merry. Banquo is not dead, he simply neglected to show up, right? I told myself lies in the hopes that I would believe them. 

I began heading down to the banquet hall, pausing to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked miserable, dark circles around bloodshot eyes.

I really needed to sleep. 

I was stopped by two hooded figures on my way. “It’s done.” They said. “But we’re afraid the son escaped.” 

Part of me was horrified, hoping he wouldn’t return to give me away, but part of me rejoiced. Get away from here, Fleance, from this horrid place, and away from me.  
I didn’t speak those thoughts out loud though. 

I caught up with my Lady, preparing to enter the hall. “You care not for punctuality, I see,” she muttered. 

We walked in, arm in arm, as the guests hailed our presence, bowing solemnly. I wanted to be anywhere but here. More greetings and well wishes. I was not here, I was somehow just watching my body on earth, going through the motions. Why didn’t I sleep?

I had to find a seat, anxiously realizing there were no more seats at the table. Surely I had counted up the guests correctly… but every seat was occupied by a person. That couldn’t be right. 

My heart stopped when I saw him at the head of the table. Still and silent amongst the chattering guests.  
Pale and unearthly, but still as beautiful as ever. I felt ready to vomit. He couldn’t be here, this couldn’t be happening.  
This had to be a sick joke. Had someone learned of what I’d done, and was now playing a cruel trick on me? 

“Which of you have done this?” I cried, backing away from the table.

The ghostly figure at my seat stood and proceeded slowly toward me. 

In that moment it was like the rest of the room fell silent. I could hear them uneasily whispering, speculating on my mental state, but all I was fully aware of was the image of Banquo walking toward me. His shirt was soaked with blood, and a bandage was tied around his throat. 

I could no longer stand, and I collapsed to the floor at his feet.  
“I’m sorry…” the words caught in my throat as I choked back tears. Oh god, Banquo, Oh god.  
He knelt to my level, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes. 

I felt his hand, cold as the grave on my shoulder. He used to feel so warm. Tears began to flow.  
The other hand moved to lift my chin so I’d have to look at him.  
Though the rest of him was faded and pale, his eyes were as blue as before, but a certain light was missing from them.  
Oh god….

He looked at me mournfully. He just looked. I was praying secretly that he’d say something, anything, maybe I only wanted to hear his voice one more time. I already missed the sound of his voice. I couldn’t believe he was gone.

“What do you want from me?” I begged him to answer. “Say anything, please,” 

He smiled sadly. Drawing my face to his, he kissed me. Hard. As if he knew this was the last time he’d see me, and he was saying goodbye. I was crying now. What had I done to the only one I truly loved? His lips were cold as ice.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone, the room was back to normal, and I was collapsed on my knees, sobbing violently. I buried my face in my hands, as the eyes of dozens of people watched in shock.


End file.
